A Whole New World
by Shadowy Dumbo Octopus
Summary: A series of drabbles detailing the gang's adventures after "Three's A Company", with the possibility of seeing a few familiar faces. Bart/Ptol cuteness and platonic Nat/Kitty/Ptol/Bart. DISCONTINUED AND MOVED TO "MISCOUNTED."
1. Prologue

**Prologue:**

 _3rd person P.O.V.  
_

Azari's head shot up as an odd sensation washed over her essence. Frowning in confusion, she got up from a dusty red armchair and left the "Fiction" section of the Russian State Library. Effortlessly navigating through the long corridors of the building, she finally found the right room and the right book. As her red eyes scanned the pages, the marid's smile grew wider and wider until she was laughing out loud.

"Oh, Bartimaeus." she sighed, shutting the tome. "I really hope that your master has taken _that_ into consideration when toying with necromancy."

Meanwhile, four people simultaneously shot up from their beds, wide awake despite it being the middle of the night.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:**

 _3rd person P.O.V._

"A puppy." Nathaniel croaked weakly. "We have adopted a puppy."

Kitty, standing beside him, could only nod as they watched their newest guest run around the house, dark eyes wide and full of wonder. Every so often, Ptolemy would ask "What is this?" or "How can this be operated?" in either Greek or, rarely, English. However, he seemed to be picking the language up quite easily, as he began to read some of the less complicated books after only a month of learning, and he has been living with them for three.

Right now, the boy was in the kitchen and examining the microwave; making notes and producing messy but accurate sketches from every angle.

"So, when you press a button, it makes the food inside warm?" he asked, opening the door and looking inside. "Fascinating. How does this happen again?"

"Radiation." Kitty explained. "It does something to the water molecules and that generates heat."

"I see." Ptolemy scribbled something in a notepad Nathaniel gave him. "I can't believe how much we have progress in such a short time."

"Progress _ed_." Nathaniel corrected. "Yes, it's rather, hmm, impressive. Now, would you actually like to _use_ the device? You haven't eaten anything since breakfast."

Ptolemy glanced up from the notepad. "Oh." he blinked. "My apologies. I forgot about it. I was busy reading, you see. I found one of your history books and I simply couldn't stop reading! Which reminds me, I would like to ask you..."

"He's always been like that." Bartimaeus remarked, making Kitty jump. She looked around and eventually spotted the djinni sitting on the counter under the guise of a black cat. He seemed to be smiling affectionately. "Always curious. Answer one question, and he'll pose another ten. You'll learn to live with it."

Sighing quietly, the girl sat beside him. "I hope so." she muttered. "How did you make him shut up, anyway? Or eat, he was too busy reading to eat dinner."

The cat seemed to shrug. "Wait until he takes a break and place food in his immediate proximity. He usually notices it sooner or later."

"And how often does he takes breaks?"

Another shrug. "Depends on the topic of his research. In this situation? I have no idea."

Kitty huffed. "Perfect. Simply perfect. If insomnia won't kill him, he'll starve himself to death!"

In that exact moment, there was a series of loud, obnoxious beeps. Ptolemy opened the microwave and removed a plate.

"It smells delicious!" he exclaimed, picking up a fork. "As if it was freshly made! I wonder if it tastes fresh, too. I have to write this down."

Bartimaeus hopped off the counter and joined his master as he exited the kitchen, chirping about this and that. All alone, the remaining adolescents looked at each other.

"Definitely a puppy." Kitty nodded. "A curious, hyperactive puppy who stays up all night because microwaves exist."

* * *

 **(A/N: Ptol still isn't fully fluent in English, so he mostly speaks Greek. However, neither Nat nor Kitty are fully fluent in Greek, so they often switch languages mid-conversation, which is the reason why their conversations seem to flow so well.)**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

 _3rd person P.O.V._

"By the way, I never asked you." Ptolemy spoke up one fateful night. All four of them were sitting in the living room and watching rain pound on the windows. "How exactly did you bring me back?"

Nathaniel looked up from his book. "Necromancy." he explained. "I found information about a book which contains the appropriate ritual and got Bartimaeus to bring it to us."

"Don't remind me of that day, please." The djinni moaned. "I have met the most oddly polite marid ever. She was actually _helpful_ and didn't try to eat me. It was... uncomfortable. We aren't supposed to be polite!"

"Wait! A marid?!" Kitty sprang to a sitting position on the floor. "You never said anything about a _marid_."

Realising that all 3 pairs of eyes were on him, Bartimaeus sighed and told them about his encounter in the library. By the end of the story, Ptolemy had dangerous sparks in his eyes.

"She's the one who built the Library of Alexandria?!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Amazing! Oh, I would love to talk to her. Who knows what else..."

"Ptolemy, I don't think..." after 6 months of living together, Kitty has learned to sense a disaster approaching. However, she was, surprisingy, cut off by Nathaniel.

"Even weak marids take at least two magicians to summon." he said. "Moreover, we don't know if she's still bound to the library..."

"I am not."

Everyone jumped and Bartimaeus spat out a particularly nasty curse in Latin when a slim silhouette appeared in the suddenly open window.

"Good evening, Bartimaeus!" The marid smiled politely, climbing inside and closing the window. "My old master has _tragically_ passed away, and my new ones have left a very convenient loophole in my summons. The poor fools aren't aware of it yet." She shook her head, her smooth dark hair completely unaffected by the rain.

Bartimaeus was the first to sober up. Shifting from Ptolemy into an angry lion*, he moved himself in front of Ptolemy, who was regarding the newcomer with great interest.

(*curiously, without a mane.)

Azari laughed. "Don't worry, for I have no desire to hurt any of you. I merely came to tell you something."

Kitty, armed with throwing knives, glanced at Nathaniel, who nodded slowly.

"Be brief." she said.

"Very well." The marid sat cross-legged on the floor. "You have opened a rift between dimensions."

Everything was very silent for a few minutes. Eventually, Nathaniel closed his mouth and uttered a single " _What?_ "

"When you resurrect a soul, you quite literally rip it out from the afterlife." Azari explained patiently. "When you do that, you leave a temporary rift between the worlds of the living and the dead, through which other souls can escape. Please, don't tell me that you didn't know this."

Both Nathaniel and Kitty looked at each other somewhat guiltily.

The marid chuckled. "It was literally three lines above the actual ritual! Then again, you mortals can be _so_ unobservant. Don't be afraid, though, because the rift usually vanishes after approximately an hour or two, and no more than ten souls escape, if any."

There was a collective breath of relief.

"However, in your case, around three or four have been brought back along with whoever you're resurrected. I'd suggest finding them, and could even be of assistance if you accept my help."

Bartimaeus growled, approaching her carefully. "Why should we trust you?"

"First of all," Azari ran her fingers through her hair, avoiding the long, ivory horns, similar to those of a ram, "if I wanted to kill you, you would be dead by now. I'm a marid, after all. Second of all, one of my current masters is, to put it mildly, an asshole. I saw him use a piece of _bacon_ as a bookmark." she paused for emphasis. "Bacon. As in, meat. In a _book_. I'm going to eviscerate him when I get back. Third of all, it will amuse me. I have been locked up in a library for the last fifty years and wouldn't mind seeing some of the outside world."

"Excuse me..." Ptolemy piped up suddenly. "but is the part about bacon as a bookmark true?"

Azari nodded grimly.

Dark eyes lit up as the boy slid past Bartimaeus and stood in front of her. Something in his demeanour changed so that no one in the room dared to make any move to stop him.

"Very well." he said. "You're in, but only if you promise to tear off his skin piece by piece while he's still alive and feed it to him. If possible, record it."

A sly smile spread on the marid's lips as she retreated to the window. "With pleasure." she purred. "Oh, and a word of advice. Escaped souls always fall near the original one; they shouldn't be far away. Farewell."

With those words, Azari opened the window and disappeared into the night.

* * *

 **(A/N: The part about a bacon bookmark is based on a true story. I've never wanted to murder anyone as much as that guy.)**


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

 _Azari's P.O.V._

After painfully annihilating my unfortunate masters* I have been summoned once more by two of the children Bartimaeus seemed to be bound to. It's clear that they had no experience with summoning powerful such spirits as myself, but I decided to forgive them their clumsiness. They're only children, after all. Besides, I had no desire to eat them just yet. I wanted to know more about their business with Το νεκρό βιβλίο.

(*I'll spare you the gruesome details. Let's just say that what I did would make George R.R. Martin's "Game of Thrones" look like a children's book. Think twice the next time you decide to use food as a bookmark.)

I materialised under the guise of a red dragon, my scarlet scales reflecting the light beautifully. Of course, I have restricted my size to fit inside the pentacle, so roughly to that of an adult horse.

Honestly, my two new masters couldn't be more different! The first one was all about formality: short hair neatly slicked back and not a single crease on his grey suit. He stood tall and straight, pale face deliberately blank and dark blue eyes fixated on my person. If he was surprised by my chosen form, he didn't show it.

The other child, however, was obviously less composed, his chin-long hair disheveled and dark eyes shining with excitement. When they landed on me, the boy gasped in awe, visibly trying to prevent himself from jumping out of the pentacle and examining my every scale.

"Greetings, young masters." I spoke politely. "How may I be of service?"

An indescribable, high-pitched noise left the dark-skinned boy's throat. As far as I could tell, he was the one who asked me to skin one of my previous masters and, as I thought about it, he looked awfully like Bartimaeus's guise from when we met in the library.

The pale boy cleared his throat. "Greetings, Azari of Alexandria." he spoke in a formal and dignified manner, almost as if he rehearsed the speech. "The last time we met you've offered your assistance with tracking down the escaped souls. However, you hopefully understand that we don't exactly have a reason to trust you. Therefore, we will still bind you to ensure that you won't turn onto us. Failure to co-operate will be met with severe punishment, understood?"

Definitely rehearsed.

I lowered my head respectfully. "I have understood you perfectly, master. Binding me isn't necessary, but if that is your wish, I won't put up resistance."

As they cast their spells, I took more time to consider my situation. First of all, where was the girl? As far as I could remember, there were three children in the room. Second of all, what was their relationship with Bartimaeus? He seemed quite protective of them. My eyes rested on the dark-skinned boy once again. He seemed familiar, and not only because Bartimaeus wore his guise. Alexandria, perhaps?

I waited until they were done before speaking up. "You." I called to the second boy, who almost jumped out of his baggy jeans. "Is your name Ptolemy by any chance?"

Before my other master was able to stop him, the boy nodded. Everything became clear.

"Ptolemaeus of Alexandria!" a smile blossomed on my scaly lips. That's where I knew the boy from! "Long time no see, dear child. So you're the one who came back from the dead? What a delightful coincidence."

Dark eyes widened. "You... You heard of me?" the young prince choked out, mouth forming into a smile even wider than my own. It seemed that my numinous presence has made him forget how to speak properly.

"Of course." I replied, sitting down and curling my long tail around my feet. "I've seen you back in the Library of Alexandria. You've been its most frequent visitor if my memory is correct. I've also read some of your works and I have to admit that I'm greatly impressed. It is an honour to be in your presence." I bowed respectfully. In case you're wondering, I meant every word. The child had an incredible mind.

Apparently my praise has tipped the poor boy over the edge, because he darted out of his pentacle and right up to me. He began to shower me with questions (in English, Greek, Latin AND Egyptian.) as he examined my graceful form from every angle. I humoured him. Ptolemy was a good child, not corrupted by power like other magicians. Besides, his enthusiasm was _adorable_.

"That is enough, dear prince." I interrupted him after the twenty-fifth question. "Your accomplice is growing agitated, so I would advise you to return to his side before we both find ourselves in trouble."

Ptolemy's eyes darted to the other boy, who still stood inside his pentacle with quite a peculiar expression. Somewhat reluctantly, he complied, taking his previous position. When he did so, my other master finally relaxed.

"V-very well." the poor child stuttered out. "You will tell us everything you know, concealing nothing and speaking the truth and nothing but the truth. Do you swear to do that?"

"Since Ptolemy had left his pentacle, your magic doesn't bind me; but yes, I swear to do so." I replied, secretly enjoying the look of confusion on his face. Most of the spirits are hostile towards humans and use any means necessary to harm them. I, on the other hand, don't really care. I recognise that humans are as diverse as my kin, and those who are worthy of respect should receive it. Kindness also throws them off, successfully amusing me at the same time.

"Now." I stretched my leathery wings as much as the size of the room allowed me. "Is there anything else I could do to help you?"

"Yes!" Ptolemy bounced up to me before my other master could utter a word. "Please tell me about yourself! Have you really built the Library of Alexandria? What else have you done? What works of mine have you read? Your wings are magnificent! What creature are you?* What..."

(*The poor child isn't yet familiar with dragons?! It has been over six months since he came back from the dead and he still hasn't read a single book about them?! I'm going to compose a list of books he absolutely _needs_ to read and make him read all of them if that's the last thing I do, mark my words.)

I cheerfully dived into a discussion with the prince, completely ignoring the other boy. If I knew his name then maybe I could...

"...and please forgive Nathaniel for being so distrustful. You see, he's not very..."

Ah, there we go! Nathaniel, derived from Greek form of the Hebrew name Netan'el, meaning "God has given." It was also, judging by Nathaniel's suddenly panicked expression, his birth name. Whoopsie.

"Fascinating, my dear prince," I shifted into a less intimidating but more comfortable form of a scarlet-eyed brunette. "but I believe that we have souls to find."

 **xXx**

I told them everything I remembered from Το νεκρό βιβλίο, as well as what I knew myself. The girl, whose name turned out to be Kitty*, wrote everything down in a notebook.

(* Short for Kathleen, an Irish version of Katherine, meaning "pure." In my honest opinion, the nickname suits her more, especially when she bristles up like an angry cat whenever I say anything. If Bartimaeus hasn't made any cat puns around her yet I'll be sorely disappointed.)

At last, night fell and I was sent on a scouting mission to see if I could sense anything out of place. Since dragons are, to put it mildly, unusual in London, I settled for the guise of a sparrow and took into the night…

…but not before I took a closer look at my masters.

Kitty slept on her side, curled up in a fetal position, a silver knife in hand.

Nathaniel slept on his back, stiff like a vampire. I could hardly suppress a chuckle as I moved on to the third room.

Ptolemy was a different matter. He slept on his left side, which by itself wasn't particularly unusual. What caught my attention, however, was Bartimaeus laying right beside him, arms wrapped around his waist. I retreated and flew off before the djinni noticed.

So that's how it was.

An idea sparked in my head and I laughed (which sounded like a long, high-pitched chirp) as I changed my course. I flew higher to avoid any unwanted eyes and transformed into a phoenix. I sped through the night like a comet until buildings were replaced by trees, which then turned into water and sand, until I landed on a beach by the Red Sea. There, I turned into a moray eel and dived into the cold, dark waters.

It took a long time until I reached the bottom, and the pressure was slowly beginning to put strain onto my essence. Luckily, I found what I was looking for quite quickly. Another shift and a particularly large squid resurfaced, holding the object in one of its tentacles. It set it down gently before changing into an unassuming brunette.

I examined my find. It was a grey wine jar, almost completely covered with seaweed and barnacles. The leaden seal around its lid caught the white light of the full moon, as if winking at me.

A smile crept upon my lips as I raised the object into the air with both hands and brought it down onto the rocks, smashing it instantly.

Black tendrils rose from the remains and shaped themselves into a vaguely humanoid silhouette.

"Hello, Darkness, my old friend." I hummed. "I've come to talk with you again."

"Quit it, Azari." the shadow hissed. "I have been stuck in this prison for millennia. What do you want?"

My smile widened. _"Coming events cast their shadows before."_ I replied as I watched my companion fade away to the Other Place. When I was sure that he was gone, I changed into a bird and took off into the night. 

Let the games begin.

* * *

 **(A/N: I only found this proverb recently, but it works so well that I had to add it. You could almost say that it's.** **..Fore _shadowing_. Sorry.)**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

 _Bartimaeus's P.O.V._

I wasn't happy.

Look, when a suspiciously friendly marid just casually waltzes into your life like it's nobody's business, you wouldn't be jumping with joy either, wouldn't you?

My main problem with Azari was that there was _no_ problem. So far, she hasn't even _tried_ to make any hostile moves. She spoke politely, co-operated, didn't ask to be dismissed and even made a reading list for Ptolemy, claiming that he needs to "catch up" with his reading! Right now he was in his room, devouring a book called _'The Hobbit'_ by someone called Tolkien.

My master hasn't slept in three days, and the discovery of coffee has only encouraged his thirst for knowledge. He hasn't spoken a word to me since yesterday.*

(*Not a coherent one, at least. Ptolemy and caffeine don't go well together.)

Not that I was _jealous_ , of course. I'm not a petty schoolgirl, but a powerful and awe-inducing djinni. I was merely _worried_.

A knock on the door grabbed my attention. Our new _friend_ has returned, it seemed. However, before either Kitty or Nathaniel made any move, the previously locked door opened and Azari slipped inside. Her guise has gained a pair of half-rimmed reading glasses and a messy bun. She looked like your stereotypical librarian.

"Good morning!" she exclaimed happily, placing a stack of three books on the table. "Ptolemaeus, I come bearing good news."

Immediately, Ptolemy barged into the room, wide eyes with worryingly dilated pupils darting around the room until they rested on the paperbacks.

"You've got them." He shrieked, running up and examining the covers. His hands were shaking slightly. "That's the entire trilogy?"

The marid nodded cheerfully. "Once you're done with _'The Hobbit'_ , make a start on these. After that, I will give you _'The Silmarillion'_. You're not ready for _'History of Middle-Earth'_ just yet…" She squinted, lowering her head to be on eye level with Ptolemy. "Ptolemaeus, have you been taking caffeine?"

My master nodded slightly too enthusiastically before grabbing the books and sprinting to his bedroom. I heard Kitty sigh. Nathaniel rolled his eyes.

"Any news?" he asked, adjusting his tie. "Be quick because I need to leave for the Parliament."

"Actually, yes." Azari hopped on the table, swinging her legs. "I have more good news to deliver. Firstly, I have located the souls. Secondly," she paused for effect. "if your meeting goes well, my dear master, you might meet one of them."

Nathaniel perked up. "Do you know their name? Speak, I charge you!"

A mysterious smile played on the marid's lips. "He is an esteemed politician who came from Israel a few months ago. I do not know what he used to call himself before the rift, but I can tell you who he is now."

"Then say it, and quickly! I'm almost running late."

"Very well. Are you familiar with King Solomon?"

 **xXx**

 _Solomon?_

I couldn't believe my ears. Nathaniel has made the two of us accompany him to the Parliament, so we sat in his limousine under the guises of a fly (me) and a spider (Azari).

 _That_ Solomon?!

I've met that man before, saved him in fact! He had a penchant for collecting various magical trinkets, the most notable one being his famous Ring. Speaking if which…

"Does he still have it?" I asked the spider sitting on the window. I haven't been in Jerusalem for a while.

The arachnid shook its head. "No." it answered. "I haven't sensed its aura. Any records of its fate after Solomon's death have either been lost or destroyed; I do not know what happened to it."

Shame. The spirit which inhabited it was pretty decent.

At last, we arrived, and we hid in Nathaniel's top pocket. Our guises were extended above three planes, so we wouldn't be detected by the magicians' lenses. Imagine their faces if they found out that John Mandrake walked around accompanied by a djinni and a marid.

When we entered the main hall, Azari climbed out of our master's pocket and into his hair, whispering directions into his ear.

Nathaniel navigated smoothly through the crowd until we left most of it behind. Azari said something about the escaped souls having a coppery golden aura around their heads, visible on the last four planes. I switched around them for a few minutes until I spotted a faint glow in one of the corners of the room.

When we moved closer, I felt a chill wash all over my essence.

It was Solomon.

Younger, with a different haircut and wearing a pitch black suit and tie, but definitely Solomon. He was chatting to a dark-skinned woman in a cream dress and hair cut in a neat bob. Curiously, she had the aura as well.

"My dear, are you sure that you definitely cannot be persuaded?" the former king asked, a glass of champagne in hand. "We haven't seen each other for a while*, after all."

(* To put it mildly.)

"We're lucky, dear master." I heard Azari whisper. "This woman here is queen Balkis. She used to reign over Sheba, if I remember correctly. It seems that Solomon is still determined to seduce her. As far as I see, it's not wor… Oh, look at that! She splashed her champagne right into his face! Go on, master. Say hello."

Nathaniel swallowed, obviously nervous. He had the right to be, though. How often do you have the opportunity to talk to two ancient rulers?

"Excuse me." He coughed, approaching the pair. Two pairs of dark eyes rested on him. "My name is John Mandrake, and …"

"Hello there, Solomon!" I piped up, quickly shifting into a human before anyone noticed. It was a modern, fancy version of the Sumerian spearbearer guise I wore during my career in ancient Jerusalem. I hoped that Solomon would remember me. "Long time no see, buddy."

It seemed to ring a bell, because the poor man almost choked on his champagne.

"Bartimaeus?!" he sputtered before laughing long and hard. "That's impossible! As if my life wasn't a rollercoaster already. What are you doing here?"

Balkis looked at the three of us with a confused expression.

"Explain yourselves!" she eventually demanded, addressing me and Nathaniel. Azari, of course, was still hidden in Natty's hair. Lucky.

 **xXx**

After the meeting was over, the five of us finally had the opportunity to talk things through freely. Nathaniel explained the situation as best as he was able to, with Azari occasionally adding some bits and bobs.

"So that's what happened!" Solomon exclaimed after they were done. "Truly fascinating, my dear boy. How did you manage to do it? Countless magicians of greater power have tried to bring the dead back to life, but with no avail. How have you succeeded?"

Nathaniel shrugged. "To be honest, my lord, I don't know." He confessed. "It was for a dare."

Solomon laughed, giving the terrified kid a pat on the back. "I like you, John! Tell you what, I'll give you my number. When you find the remaining two souls (or if you just want a chat) give me a call. I'd love to talk more, but I'm afraid that Balkis and I have to go."

"Actually," the queen spoke up. "I happen to know the identity of one of the souls. I trust that you remember Asmira?"

My jaw dropped. That girl, too? Oh, for goodness's sake! What else?!

While Nathaniel and Solomon exchanged numbers* and Azari spoke with Balkis, I considered the situation. Out of four souls, we have found three, and it seemed that there was a pattern of sorts.

(* Solomon has a ' _Pokemon'_ -themed phone case. Do what you want with that information.)

Let's see: roughly the same place; the same time period; magicians, not commoners.

Balkis, Solomon and Asmira...

 _Who is missing?_


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

 _3rd person P.O.V._

The rain caught Ptolemy unaware exactly halfway from the library. It was typical English weather, so he should've been prepared, but he was in such hurry when leaving the house that he simply forgot to grab an umbrella.

'Rekhyt is going to give me a lecture of the century.' Ptolemy thought with some amusement as he tried to cover his books with his coat. Unfortunately, the garment was already drenched, so he resorted to hiding inside one of the shops along the street.

The bell rang silently as he entered, staining the wooden floor with his wet sneakers.

The shop was dimly lit and stuffy, its countless shelves littered with a wide array of items: models, old toys, some furniture and even a voodoo mask or two! There was a dusty bookshelf on the far left, so he headed straight for it. Most of the tomes were hardcover and heavily worn down, the writing almost impossible to decipher.

A cough snapped him out of his daze. Ptolemy turned around to see a tall, dark-skinned man standing behind the counter. He seemed to be in his mid-thirties and perhaps of Eastern origins, and his eyes… the shiver that ran down Ptolemy's spine had nothing to do with the cold.

"Can I help you?" the man eventually asked, somewhat impatiently.

Ptolemy swallowed, suddenly very nervous. "No, sir." He replied promptly. The man reminded him of some of his stricter tutors back in Alexandria. "I only came in because it was raining. I'm sorry for disturbing you. I will call my friends and…" he turned back and reached for the phone that Nathaniel got for him. Ptolemy still wasn't completely sure how it worked, but eventually managed to call Kitty. "Hi, Kitty! It's me, Ptolemy. Look, it's raining and I don't have an umbrella. Would you and Rekhyt mind coming over?"

The man looked up at him with sudden interest.

"…I'm at the antique shop, beside the butcher's. Thank you." Sighing in relief, Ptolemy ended the call and almost jumped when the man spoke up again.

"Your name is Ptolemy, isn't it?" he asked, and Ptolemy just noticed two long, vertical scars running down his cheeks. After a second, he nodded.

"That is my name, sir." He confirmed.

The man raised a dark eyebrow and reached under the counter. He produced a small, wooden figurine depicting a hippopotamus in a straw skirt. Curiously, it seemed to be carrying a large stone block. He examined it for a while before silently handing it to Ptolemy.

He took it, admiring the attention to detail and the talent of the woodworker. All nervousness evaporated at once, replaced by curiosity.

"It's beautiful, sir." He confessed. "Did you make it? Such intricacy… Who made it? What wood is it from? Why did the artist choose to carve this hippo in particular and…" he looked up. "Why did you give it to me?"

A smile stretched on the man's thin lips.

"Someone told me that you would like it." He explained. "I don't know much about wood, but this seems to be chestnut. As to the unusual choice of subject?" the smile widened. "Ask Bartimaeus."

Ptolemy froze. How did that man know of Bartimaeus? He didn't refer to him by name when talking to Kitty.

"Sir, I have one more question." he spoke up. "Who are you?"

The man chuckled and stepped out from behind the counter. He wore a grey button-up shirt and black trousers. "Who am I?" he repeated. "No-one who a good kid like you should know about. Take a seat on that dusty chair over there; no one has even looked at it for months."

As he complied, Ptolemy noticed that the man's shadow was darker and longer than it should've been in the limited light of the shop. A thought sparked in his head. He once read a book about…

"'History of the East', 'Europe Throughout the Years' and 'Most Notable Inventions of Our Time'." The man read the titles on his books, making him lose his train of thought. "You like history, don't you? Have you ever read about the history of Egypt?"

Another spark. The name was just out of Ptolemy's reach. He nodded. "Yes, sir. I come from Egypt, so I used to read a lot about its history." Well, he wasn't technically lying. "I'm trying to catch up now."

"Interesting." The odd man pulled up another chair and sat in front of him. "Have you got lots of catching up to do?"

"Yes. Quite a lot."

"I see. Well, you seem like a clever boy, Ptolemy. You'll catch up in no time. Are you from Alexandria, by any chance?"

"Yes, sir. How did you figure that out?"

The man smiled again. "Just a guess." He shrugged.

Ptolemy's eyes narrowed. The man was _toying_ with him, trying to get information. Well, he was about to find out that he can 'guess' just as well.

"Which part of Egypt are _you_ from, sir?" he asked. "Upper Egypt, perhaps?"

The man leaned forward, dark eyes studying him suspiciously. "What do you know about me?" he drawled, and his shadow seemed to grow and elongate.

A small smile appeared on Ptolemy's lips. "You hail from Upper Egypt, sir. Trained in Karnak. Employed by King Solomon, whom you tried to overthrow, but with no success. You have been executed and only returned to life eight months ago. Now, if you don't mind me asking, is your name…"

"Ptolemy?" The bell above the door sung as Kitty entered the shop holding two umbrellas.

The man smiled politely, standing up. "Well, here's your friend." He remarked. "Better get going, kid, but feel free to come around for a chat if you want to."

Ptolemy glanced back at him. "I will." he promised.

 **xXx**

 _Bartimaeus's P.O.V._

I peeked out of Kitty's pocket when we entered the shop. It was dark, dusty and generally unpleasant, so I hid again. I was a mouse, by the way. I wanted to change into Ptolemy, but didn't feel like it. I was tired and kind of wanted to get back to the Other Place.

"Well, here's your friend." The shopkeeper said, and I peeked out again because that voice was disturbingly familiar. A brief look through the planes later has confirmed my suspicion; we've got the fourth soul. However, I couldn't quite place his face.

As we exited, I risked another look. I could've sworn that I've seen him somewhere. He stood back behind the counter, a disturbing smile on his face. His shadow, cast on the wall behind him, waved at me. I waved back.*

(*Not doing so would be rude, after all.)

I am ashamed to say that it took me five blocks to connect all the facts together.

The mouse suddenly jumped out of Kitty's pocket with a squeak of fear and outrage. To think that my beloved master has been sitting in the immediate proximity of…

 **xXx**

 _3rd person P.O.V._

Back in the shop, Khaba moved the chairs back on their places and dusted himself off.

"Did you see him?" he asked. His shadow detached itself from the floor and rested its hands on his shoulders.

"I have, master." It replied, long fingers moving to stroke the back of Khaba's neck, a gesture so familiar yet still so alien. "He was hidden in the girl's pocket under the guise of a mouse."

"Very well. We will not make any moves against him or his master quite yet. Let's wait and see. Meanwhile," he reached up to trace his finger along the shadow's jaw, "let's go home, shall we, Ammet?"

* * *

 **(A/N: Okay, listen. These two are absolute** ** _filth_** **incarnate, but they're so dang fun to write that I couldn't help myself. Plus, they're the only villains so far who haven't made me want to murder them. In fact, I actually** ** _like_** **them.**

 **Also, quick question: do you want a chapter dedicated to them? How Khaba regained his memories (it would provide insight into how the souls regain their identities), how they found each other again, that kind of stuff. Any opinions?)**


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:**

 _3rd person P.O.V._

* * *

 ** _*eight months earlier*_**

Alex was a normal man.

Sure, he summoned demons on an everyday basis, but that wasn't as unusual as one would think. His family originally hailed from Egypt, but they moved to London two years before he was born. He ran a small antique shop and lived in an apartment above it. He was thirty-five years old and his full name was Alexander Renn…

Until one day, it wasn't.

One Saturday evening, Alex dozed off on the couch and had a dream. It was very odd, he had to admit. It consisted of chaotic flashes of scenery and faces, none of which he could recognise. When he woke up, Alex was drenched with sweat.

During the following weeks his life spiraled downhill. The dreams were more common and vivid, showing him images so horrifying that he began to dread going to sleep: crypts, bones and foulest of demons creeping in the shadows; tortures so vicious that he felt his skin crawl at the mere thought.

Driven to mad desperation, Alex locked himself away. Was he going mad? He spent hours pacing around his small apartment, as if waiting for something to happen… but what? He didn't know. After countless sleepless nights to escape the dreams, Alex was barely sure of his own identity.

"What is wrong with me?" he choked out one night in front of the bathroom mirror. He was pale from lack of sunlight and almost delirious from lack of sleep. Two vertical scars ran down his cheeks from a particularly frustrating night. "Who am I?"

No answer.

With a cry of anguish, Alex smashed the mirror, his mind not registering the pain even when he looked down at his bloodied fist. Calmly, he ran his hand under cold water and checked for glass shards. Lastly, he bandaged it (going to the hospital would mean questions) and finally gave up. He went to bed...

…and dreamt the most vivid dream of all.

Flashes of light and darkness. Colours and faces. Voices talking, laughing, most often screaming. Among that madness stood a magician, essence-flail in hand. A silent voice kept whispering his name.

Everything became clear. His name wasn't Alexander. It was…

Khaba opened his eyes and sat up.

 **xXx**

The next days were a mixture of frantic research in attempt to regain the rest of his memories and the dull, repetitive hours behind the counter. It was going well, though, and by the end of the month, Khaba remembered almost everything.

However, one thing seemed to be escaping him. He had a nagging feeling that one part of him was still missing. But what? What was he still overlooking?

One day, a woman entered the shop. Hazel eyes, high cheekbones, brown hair tied up in a messy bun, half-rimmed reading glasses and a graphite coat thrown over a maroon turtleneck and jeans.

She approached the counter. "Good afternoon, sir." She said politely. There was something unusual about her, Khaba decided, but couldn't put his finger on what.

"What can I do for you?" he asked eventually, deciding to wait and see.

"I would like to deposit something here." The woman replied, and reached into her pocket. To his surprise, she produced a wooden carving of a pygmy hippo in a grass skirt, as well as a sealed envelope. "I would be eternally grateful if you could give the figurine to a boy named Ptolemy. He is of Egyptian origin and asks too many questions; I'm sure that you will recognise him. Your payment is in the envelope."

Sending her a quick, suspicious look, Khaba opened the envelope. Inside there was a single piece of folded paper. Looking up, he found that the woman was gone. Shrugging, he took out the letter and unfolded it.

 _"_ _To Khaba the Cruel,_

 _I am very glad to see that you have regained your memories, and hope that your hand is healing well. Please, do not break any more mirrors; it brings misfortune._

 _I would suggest finding the boy named Ptolemy and talking to him, for he is the main reason why you are yourself again. However, even your most imaginative tortures will pale in comparison to what will happen to you if any harm befalls him, so hurting him is highly unadvised._

 _Lastly, do get some rest, for you look like a shadow of your former self._

 _With best regards,_

 _-A_

 _P.S. There is no need to thank me."_

Khaba frowned. Whoever wrote this knew far too much about him, and what was he supposed to be thankful fo…

 _"_ _Like a shadow of your former self"_

 _Like a shadow…_

Suddenly weak, he caught the counter for support, eyes wide and heart beating hard.

"Ammet?"

 **xXx**

What did she want?

Ammet's essence swirled in confusion. Even the comfort of the Other Place hasn't freed the marid from his thoughts.

What could Azari have wanted? Why did she free him? Why now? Why? Why? Why?

So many questions, yet no answers to satisfy him. Azari has always been an enigma, more complex than one would expect; quite like one of the books that she came to love so much.

 _Love._

Inevitably, the spirit's thoughts drifted to his master. Khaba. A pang of guilt shot through Ammet's essence. He failed. Failed to get the Ring. Failed to kill the djinni. Failed to protect his master. Failed to do anything.

Suddenly, a familiar sensation. Invisible hooks piercing his essence and dragging him into the world of mortals.

He was being summoned.

 **xXx**

Khaba knew that marids were difficult to summon. Hell, he had over 60 years of combined experience, both from his past life and the present. 'Ah, hell,' he thought, 'I first summoned him when I was a teenager*. Doing it again now will not be difficult.'

(*Quick note: Ammet _did_ mention that Khaba first summoned him as a "youth". It was chapter 20 of _"Ring of_ Solomon" if I recall correctly. According to the Bartimaeus Wiki, marids are freakishly difficult to summon; even the weak ones take two magicians. So… Ammet PLUS whatever other spirits Khaba had under his command back in Jerusalem… that guy is pretty DARN powerful.)

However, as he made the finishing touches to the pentacle, he hesitated.

What if Ammet wouldn't recognise him?

Still, Khaba had to take the risk. Being without Ammet was disconcerting at best, like losing one's shadow. He chuckled at the analogy.

Finally, he took his place inside the smaller pentacle and began the summoning. The words came almost naturally so the ritual ended quickly. However, the traditional 19* seconds of wait seemed to last an eternity. To his horror, Khaba found that he wasn't sure if Ammet would even answer.

(* 9 seconds for the call to reach the Other Place, 7 to wake the spirit and 3 to bring it into the pentacle. Taken from chapter 13 of "Amulet of Samarkand")

Suddenly, the room became dark, and he brought his mind back to the matter at hand. The darkness collected in the middle of the pentacle into a towering silhouette.

"Who dares to summon me?" the marid hissed, blood red eyes scanning the room until they rested on the magician a few feet away from him.

However, there was something off about that particular mortal; something disturbingly familiar. Surely, it couldn't be… Narrowed eyes suddenly widened.

The room became very quiet.

"Ammet." Khaba's voice barely rose above a whisper. He took a careful step and left his pentacle, dark eyes never leaving the shadow's. "It's me."

The darkness vanished and the figure shrank to more or less human size and shape. It uttered one word; one word which almost brought Khaba to his knees.

"Master?"

Taking a careful step, Khaba left his pentacle and approached the shadow, noticing how it bore an uncanny resemblance to his own. Taking a deep, calming breath, he nodded.

Eyes wide with wonder, Ammet reached out to touch his master's face, as if disbelieving. The touch, so familiar yet so alien, sent shivers down Khaba's spine. Closing his eyes, he covered the marid's hand with his own, leaning into the touch.

"You haven't forgotten." He whispered.

Instead of answering, Ammet lunged at him, pressing their mouths together. Khaba responded immediately, feeling his mouth fall open under a desperate onslaught of lips, tongue and teeth. He shuddered, savouring every touch. Time slowed down. Everything else ceased to exist. There was only Ammet.

 _His_ Ammet.

"Mine." he snarled, arms snaking around Ammet's neck. "Mine."

An indescribable noise left the marid's throat as he licked the blood dripping from Khaba's lower lip. "Yes. Yours. Forever."

Eventually, they broke apart, foreheads touching. Khaba was breathing heavily.

"I missed you." He grinned, wondering if he owned a shirt that would cover the bite marks that Ammet would undoubtedly leave on his neck.

It then occurred to him that the only shirt capable of doing that was currently being ripped off him and on its way to the floor, so it didn't really matter.

* * *

 **(A/N: GODDAMNIT GUYS THIS FIC WAS SUPPOSED TO BE K-RATED FLUFF, and then the two of you just ruined it. I'm probably going to have to change the rating now. Well, at least now the readers know how it feels to be a returned soul. Also, Azari seems to have faaaaar too much spare time.)**


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:**

 _Bartimaeus's P.O.V._

A loud sneeze caused me to almost fall off the bed. I changed position, curling up exactly in the middle of Ptolemy's lower back. The kid had a cold and I had no intention of letting him out of bed. Besides, he hasn't slept for almost a week.

"Rekhyt…" I heard a muffled groan. I didn't move. "Rekhyt, I have to get up."

"Not on my watch." I replied cheerfully, placing a paw on my stubborn master's head to keep him from raising it.

"I have books to read.*"

(* Typical. When was it _not_ about books these days?)

"I'll read them to you."

"I'll roll over and throw you off..." Ptolemy threatened, although we both knew that he wouldn't do that. "… Bartimaeus, pleeeeeeease! At least get me something warm to drink. Hot chocolate? Tea? Coffee?"

"NO MORE COFFEE FOR YOU." We heard Kitty shout from the kitchen. "Last Thursday you drank ten cups just to see if you could and claimed that you could smell voices, and that Nathaniel's smells like strawberries. He doesn't even _like_ them, you know."

Ptolemy perked up. "How can you…" he began, but was cut off by another sneeze. "How can you _not_ like strawberries?!"

I sighed, resting my head on my paws. Nathaniel was off on another Parliament meeting, probably already cornered by Solomon and in the middle of a conversation about cartoons*

(* Yes, you've read it correctly. Solomon, the former king of Israel, likes " _Adventure Time._ " I wish I was lying.)

Azari was out shopping. Our marid has been looking quite smug lately, by the way. When I asked her why, she just grinned and said "You will see" which didn't sound suspicious _at all_.

"Rekhyt?" Ptolemy's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "I almost forgot. There is something in the pocket of my coat. Would you mind bringing it to me?"

I jumped off the bed, changed from a cat into Ptolemy (old habits die hard) and went to retrieve the coat from the hanger in the living room. I rummaged through the pockets and found something which caused me to spit out a particularly nasty curse in ancient Babylonian.

 **xXx**

"So," Ptolemy rolled over onto his side to look at me, "what's with the hippo in a skirt?"

I gawked at him. "Where did you get this from?" I asked, holding up the wooden figurine and feeling a wave of rather unpleasant memories wash over me.

He grinned. "I'm the one who's asking the questions." He said, sitting up. "Answer or I'll find out myself."

Reluctantly, I told him. You probably know the whole story by now, so I won't bother repeating it. As if embarassing myself in front of Ptolemy wasn't enough, Solomon has decided to stop being dead, so my dear master could ask him for more details about my… misadventures in Jerusalem.

When I finished explaining, Ptolemy was rolling with laughter, and I could even hear Kitty giggling from the kitchen.

"Now," I held up the hippo, "where did you get this from?"

It took a long while for my master to compose himself enough to talk. He sat up, smoothed down his hair (making no difference whatsoever), sneezed, sniffled and replied:

"Someone gave it to me."

"Who?" I prompted. That someone was going to _pay_.

He grinned. "You wouldn't…"

In that moment, the front door opened and, from the sound of the conversation, it was Natty boy. I cringed when I heard Kitty say something and immediately break out in laughter. What was even worse, Nathaniel joined her, and he will _never_ let me live this down.

"Solomon has invited us for dinner next Wednesday, by the way." The brat announced, poking his head into the bedroom. Ptolemy almost jumped out of the bed.

"Solomon?" he repeated after loudly blowing his nose. " _The_ Solomon? Really? When? Where? Will we go? Will I have the opportunity to talk to him? Does he still have his ring? What is he like? Could he…" Aaand yet another sneeze.

"Rest and heal, kid." I chuckled. "We'll worry about Solomon when you're back to full health."

Ptolemy smiled one of his disarming smiles. "Yes, mom." he held up his hands in mock defeat.

Rolling my eyes, I shifted back into a cat and curled up next to my beloved human trainwreck, purring in content. London or Alexandria, he was still Ptolemy.

 _My_ Ptolemy. _  
_


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:**

 _Bartimaeus's P.O.V._

"Ptolemy, we're leaving!" Kitty yelled over the sound of the TV. The kid didn't even look up. Yesterday he discovered a show called "Mythbusters" and has decided to marathon the whole thing. I'm not sure if he slept at all.

Ptolemy was sitting on the floor wearing one of Nathaniel's suits (a bit too large for him) and staring at the screen with wide puppy eyes. Sighing, I went over to the TV and turned it off, earning a loud, whiny "But Rekhyt!" I swear, sometimes this kid acts like he's five.

"We're going to meet Solomon, remember?" Nathaniel adjusted his tie. "If you don't want to go, you can stay…" he paused for effect, which was immediate. Ptolemy jumped up, dusted himself off, grabbed a notebook and bounced up to the door.*

(* Excited Ptolemy has an odd tendency to literally bounce around like a bunny instead of properly walking. It's adorable.)

We hailed a taxi and drove to one of the fanciest restaurants in London. I didn't care enough to catch its name.

While Nathaniel handed the fare money to the driver, I took a moment to examine my surroundings. The place was clean enough and well lit. The light from the lamps has made Ptolemy's hair seem streaked with gold as he eyed the splendor in front of him with such undisguised, fascinated wonder that…

Once the financial matters have been taken care of, we entered the establishment.

The interior was quite fancy, with fake plants and golden ornaments pretty much everywhere. The tables were round and covered with snow white tablecloths. We quickly located Solomon and Balkis, as well as another woman, whom I have recognized as Asmira.

We exchanged nods, names, handshakes and a shocked glare (between me and Asmira) and sat down. Immediately, Ptolemy began to shower the king with countless questions. Solomon seemed to be delighted to answer them, and in turn questioned him extensively about his research.

"It's very nice to finally meet the five of you properly." He eventually grinned, accepting the menu card from a waiter. "I was anticipating this meeting."

"As have we." Kitty smiled politely, opening her menu. She wore a graphite suit, by the way, because a dress would've been "Impractical." She looked quite well, to be fair.

While we waited for our orders to arrive (after having to explain to Ptolemy what half of the dish names meant), Balkis spoke up:

"This here," she gestured to Asmira. "is Asmira. She was a guard and assassin of mine, as well as a trusted friend."

"She saved my butt." Solomon added, earning a slap on the back of his head.

Asmira coughed, placing her hand back on the table. "It's very nice to meet you," She said stiffly, "especially you, prince Ptolemaeus." She bowed her head at Ptolemy, who grinned sheepishly. "I've been informed that one more soul has been resurrected. Do we know his or her identity?"

I sighed. Here we go. "Take a guess." I offered, still in Ptolemy's guise. "He's from the same time period and place as the three of you. You and Solomon knew him. In fact, you have amputated one of his fingers if I remember correctly."

Solomon put down his glass with a sudden frown. "You cannot be serious." He drawled. "Please, don't tell me that the bastard is back, too."

Asmira grit her teeth. "If he even considers making a move against us…" she began, but was interrupted by Azari.

"Let us not lose our temper." She said diplomatically. She wore her usual brown-haired guise without the horns, wings and tail, as well as a slim black dress, black sandals and a pearl choker.* "This is a friendly dinner, after all. Besides, how do we know that he will harm us? From what I have heard, his main objective was Solomon's ring. With it gone, what could he want?"

(*After the dinner I have been informed that the outfit was based off a dress from Truman Capote's _Breakfast at Tiffany's_.)

"Revenge?" Asmira suggested, crossing her arms.

"Perhaps, but the law is stricter in the 21st century." The marid pointed out. "There would be an investigation and, with modern forensics, our dear Khaba would very soon have both English and possibly Israeli police after him." She sipped from her glass of water.

Finally, our food arrived and Ptolemy's eyes almost fell out of their sockets at the sight of the food piled on his plate. Azari and I cannot eat human food, of course, so we ordered soup to remain in-suspicious and shared it with Nathaniel and Kitty.

The atmosphere relaxed slightly during the meal, and Azari has pulled Solomon into a discussion about "Harry Potter" and the differences between the books and the movies.

"In my opinion, they have cast McGonagall perfectly." She confessed.

"True," the king agreed, swallowing a chunk of beef, "but they could've included Peeves. I was never sure how to imagine him." He glanced at me. "I have to confess that I imagined him as Bartimaeus for the first two books."

Kitty snorted quietly and Nathaniel has made an impressive attempt of masking his chuckle with a coughing fit.

"Do keep the conversation spoiler-free, by the way." The marid gestured at Ptolemy, who was listening attentively. "Ptolemy here is halfway through the fourth book."

Solomon nodded. "Of course." He smiled. "There is nothing worse than spoilers for a good book or show, let me tell you."

"I have committed rather gruesome and imaginable acts of violence on a couple of occasions just because I overheard a spoiler for a book I was reading." Azari confessed, earning a couple of odd looks from people from neighbouring tables.

"I've considered it on a couple of occasions, to be honest. For example-"

I tuned them out, instead focusing on Balkis and Nathaniel discussing politics, but that quickly got boring, too, so I switched to Kitty and Asmira. Guess what they were discussing.

Weapons and knife-throwing techniques, as well as Asmira's job as Balkis's personal bodyguard. Kitty even asked her for a few lessons.

Eventually, the desserts came and I had the pleasure of seeing the first encounter of Ptolemy with ice cream. His expressions were simply priceless, from the wide-eyed wonder at the first taste, to the painful cringe from the brain-freeze because he ate half of his portion in the space of two seconds.

"Well, this dinner was lovely," Balkis said, wiping her lips with a napkin, "but we have to go."

Asmira stood up, exchanged numbers with Kitty, said goodbye and also left, which left the five of us plus Solomon.

The king coughed. "Ah, yes. It appears that I have to go, too." He shook Nathaniel's hand. "We should meet up again. However, I'm going to be on a tight schedule for the next few weeks, so we could arrange it on a later date, how about that?"

Kitty nodded enthusiastically. "That would be perfect, your majesty." She smiled politely. "I- I mean 'we' still have many questions…"

"Of course." Solomon smiled at her. He seemed to like her. "Also, please call me by my name. I'm not exactly a king anymore. I also hope," he turned to Nathaniel, "to see more of you in the meetings, John."

Nathaniel smiled nervously. "Me too, your ma- I mean Solomon." He quickly corrected himself.

 **xXx**

It was past midnight when we got back home, and all three of my masters went straight to beds*.

(*I was pleased to see that Ptolemy seemed too exhausted for another sleepless night.)

Content, I changed into a crow and flew through the open window. I sat on the roof beside a lonely sparrow with particularly dashing red eyes. We shifted back into human forms.

"You knew." I stated.

Azari nodded. "I have." She admitted. "It took me some time to locate and identify them, but I have known for a while."

I frowned. "Why didn't you tell us then?"

She smiled. "You would have met them sooner or later, so there was hardly any point." She explained. "In Solomon's case, I gave you his name to help you identify him. The fate did my work for me in the other cases."

We sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Khaba will not make a move against you." She spoke up suddenly. "At least, I'm fairly sure that he won't."

I glanced at her curiously. "Why do you think that?"

She shrugged. "Like I said at the dinner, he would have been discovered and arrested very quickly, and I doubt that revenge would be worth that. Besides," she took out a book out of nowhere and opened it on a previously marked page, "he seems less homicidal than you have described him as."

"He works in retail." I scoffed. "Give it time."


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:**

 _Azari's P.O.V._

A polite yet insisting cough has made me raise my gaze from my book.

"Good afternoon, dear master." I smiled politely. "How may I be of service?"

Nathaniel cleared his throat once more, desperately trying to avoid eye contact.

"Good afternoon to you too, Azari." He replied. "We've been... We've been discussing the matter for a while and we've come to a conclusion…" he paused. "We have decided to Dismiss you."

I raised an eyebrow, shutting the book. "Oh?"

"You see," Nathaniel went on somewhat nervously, "you have been great help with tracking down the souls and all, but you've completed your assignment; you're no longer needed."

"Ah, I see." I said, standing up. "I absolutely understand the decision. Serving you and your friends has been a genuine pleasure, but I have been anticipating Dismissal for a while now." I shook the boy's hand. "However, as much as I appreciate the gesture, would you mind Dismissing me tomorrow instead of today?"

Nathaniel blinked. "Why?" he asked, obviously surprised by the request.

I chuckled, raising the novel for him to see. "Because I haven't yet finished my book."

(*As a spirit, I suffer greatly when my stay in the human world is prolonged. However, I would gladly suffer a pain a thousand times stronger rather than leave a good book unfinished.)

 **xXx**

As the day was coming to an end, I paid a quick visit to Ptolemy's room to say goodbye. The poor child seemed greatly upset by the decision, while Bartimaeus (under the guise of a desert cat) simply rolled over onto his side and proceeded to ignore me. Very well.

"I leave you an updated reading list." I said, reaching into my pocket and producing a folded piece of lined paper. "You have been making great progress with the English language, so I have added more complex texts, such as the works of Arthur Conan Doyle or William Shakespeare, as well as some books detailing more obscure aspects of the human history. Hopefully, they will interest or at least entertain you."

Ptolemy accepted the list and placed it on his nightstand. His trembling chin and gleaming eyes were telling me that he was on the brink of tears.

"I'll miss you." He uttered.

I smiled sympathetically. "Do not be sad, child." I said, taking a seat beside him. "The world is vast, and your life short. Use the time that was given to you and use it wisely: learn, discover, ask questions, but above all else: _read_. A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies; the man who never reads lives only one*. Live as many lives as you can, Ptolemeaus. Who knows, maybe we will meet again in another one?" (*The quote is from _"A Dance with Dragons_ " by George R. R. Martin. Although the man has a tendency to painfully annihilate his characters, he has a great talent for memorable quotes.)

I patted his shoulder reassuringly; gave Bartimaeus a friendly scratch behind the ear; narrowly missed getting my arm lacerated and left the room.

I have then said a quick and polite goodbye to Kitty and took my place by the window. The book wasn't going to finish itself, after all.

 **xXx**

At last, night fell, and my masters have departed to their beds. I put my (finished) book down and opened the window, letting the cool breeze caress my face. I turned into a crow and took off.

It was my last night in this world, and I was determined to make a good use of it.

I flew to the library and perched on top of a mailbox. The lights were still on, thankfully, and I had the opportunity to watch various mortals get on with their business: studying, paperwork, research and, at last, reading. However, said mortals have begun to depart quite soon, so I left.

I passed the bank and the butcher's before eventually perching on the roof of a small antique shop. There, I changed back into my human guise and looked up at the stars. They were slightly different than the ones I have seen back in Alexandria, and countless constellations have been discovered since then. Unfortunately, I could only spot the Ursa Minor.

I sat like that, perfectly still, until the shadow cast by the chimney detached itself from the roof and stood beside me.

" _Hello, Darkness, my old friend_." I hummed. " _I've come to talk with you again."_

Instead of hissing at me, it sat down and sang with a soft voice, almost impossible to hear. _"Because a vision softly creeping left its seeds when I was sleeping, and the vision that was planted in my brain still remains…"_

 _"…_ _Within the sound of silence."_ I finished. "See? I knew that you would like it."

Ammet sneered at me. "Is that how you're going to greet me from now on?" he asked, although I could tell that he wasn't really irritated. "What brings you here?"

"My masters will Dismiss me tomorrow." I replied. "I wanted to catch one more glimpse of the night sky before I leave."

"Liar." came the reply. I didn't argue.

We sat in silence for a while until the shadow spoke up again, much more quietly than the last time. "Thank you."

I blinked, somewhat surprised. Well, here's a plot twist if I ever saw one. "For what?" I asked. We spirits rarely show gratitude unless it somehow benefits us.

"For everything." Ammet replied, seemingly lost in thought. "I have been Confined for millennia, my wounded essence trapped inside a small, dark space. I couldn't do anything. I even stopped feeling anger towards the one who imprisoned me. In fact, after a while I barely felt anything… except for guilt. I have failed. Failed to protect my master; failed to retrieve Solomon's ring; even failed to defeat that djinni." He laughed, his voice devoid of any mirth, before continuing.

"I mourned Khaba's death, most likely from the hands of Solomon's guards. I howled and thrashed against the walls of my prison until I was too exhausted to move. I couldn't tell the passage of the time; the constant stillness slowly driving me mad and the constant pain of my essence slowly dying filling every second of my life… until you freed me." There was a short pause.

"For that alone you would've earned my gratitude, but…" Ammet took out a folded letter from between two loose bricks. I recognised it immediately.

"I've read it." He said, "I know that you've orchestrated our meeting, from freeing me to that letter, but I couldn't be more grateful. I have never felt happier than when I materialized inside the pentacle and saw my master again. I do not know why you've chosen to reunite us, but thank you so much." The shadow seemed to smile. "I mean it."

I smiled back, "There is no need to thank me. The two of you deserve each other, as strange as it may seem. Besides," I changed position slightly. "you will encounter Bartimaeus sooner or later, and I'm sure that you still want a bit of petty revenge, don't you?"

Ammet laughed. "Any direct act of violence could attract unwanted attention, and I do not want the assassin girl anywhere near my master again; I guess that petty revenge is all I have left. Have you got any ideas?"

My smile widened as the image of Bartimaeus curled up beside Ptolemy flashed in my mind.

"I might have a few…"

 **xXx**

I have been Dismissed the next morning. I shall remember this stay on Earth fondly. I have eviscerated ten humans (two of them were incompetent masters and eight have failed to return their books on time), read seven hundred and thirty five books and turned Ptolemy into a shameless Potterhead.

It was fun.

 _"_ _And the people bowed and prayed  
to the neon god they made.  
And the sign flashed out its warning,  
In the words that it was forming.  
And the signs said, 'The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls  
And tenement halls.  
_ _And_ _whisper'd_ _in_ _the_ _sounds_ _of_ _silence_ _."_

* * *

 **(A/N: Okay, but have you ever considered how terribly boring would it be to be trapped in a bottle for over 2000 years? Because I have. Also, I actually like Ammet; he and Khaba amuse me.)**


	11. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

 **I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING THIS FOR SO LONG GUYS! I LOVE ALL YOUR REVIEWS BUT REAL LIFE AND ABOUT 50 OTHER PROJECTS GOT IN THE WAY.**

 **ALSO THIS FIC IS BEING REWRITTEN BECAUSE I DON'T LIKE MANY ASPECTS OF IT. IT WILL BE MORE DETAIL AND THE CHARACTERS WILL BE BETTER DEVELOPED.**

 **THINGS TO LOOK FORWARD TO:**

 **Ptolemy vs Science**

 **Simpkin, Queezle, Faquarl and Jabor**

 **Possibly Uraziel/Spirit of the Ring**

 **Balkis vs Neko Atsume**

 **Solomon and Ptolemy fangirling over modern technology because Sol was a nerd for magical gadgets, so why not tech gadgets?**

 **"Good Omens" references**

 **Ammet and Bartimaeus being petty little shits to each other CONSTANTLY because their respective bookish Egyptian boyfriends have told them to chill a bit**

 **Dungeons & Dragons**

 **The story of why Khaba is no longer allowed to DM, or how half of the party ended up traumatized in two sessions or less**

 **Art student Asmira**

 **Ptolemy on a sugar high**

 **Asmira and Kitty being best friends**

 **Simpkin as a cute librarian helper**

 **Solomon and Nathaniel bonding over their terrible taste in fashion**

 **Bartimaeus somehow ending up pissing off not one, but TWO marids**

 **Gazillions of book references**

 **Shadow puns**

 **And more! I'm so sorry for disappearing on you guys, but this fic definitely isn't over!**


	12. Teaser

**Here's a short preview of what's to come. Yes, Simpkin is alive. Don't ask how.**

Nathaniel sighed for what was probably the fiftieth time today.

"Ptolemy." He said. No reaction. The kid was staring into the TV as if it was some sort of a sacred shrine. This, plus the fact that he's been in that position for the past four and a half hours was more than slightly worrying. What was he watching, anyway? Nathaniel craned his neck to look at the screen. His eyes widened in horror. " _Mythbusters_ ," he choked out, all blood leaving his face. "Not again." 

**oOo**

Azari hummed a cheerful tune as she counted the books she was assigned to. To her delight, it turned out that her new master utilized the double-stacking system, which meant that there were in fact twice as many books as she originally thought. What was even better, Azari couldn't recognize most of the titles, which signified that she hasn't read them yet. Yes, she had literal _tons_ of reading material, all for herself.

"'Xcuse me," a polite voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Azari of Alexandria, isn't it?"

Surprised, Azari looked down to see a small, long-tailed foliot, barely tall enough to reach up to her waist. He was holding a clipboard and a pencil.

"Yes, it is I." she confirmed, sitting down in front of the creature. "Who is asking?"

"Simpkin." The foliot introduced himself. "Master has ordered me to be your helper and give him regular reports of your performance." He grinned proudly. "It is an important job."

"Undoubtedly." Azari smiled warmly – he seemed nice. "Pray tell, Simpkin, does our master grant me permission to read?"

Simpkin scratched himself behind the ear with his pencil before consulting the clipboard.

"He said that it's fine." He said eventually. "As long as you do your job. You really like books, don't you?"

Azari clapped her hands in delight. "Splendid!" she called out. "Yes, books are very dear to me, and if you would like to, I could recommend you some titles."

"Sure, but once again, as long as you do your job." Her new companion shrugged carelessly, but she could clearly see a spark of interest in his eyes. "Say, what's so fun about books, anyway?" 

**oOo**

Solomon stared down at the simple band of gold adorned with a small obsidian stone. It was stained with mud and ash, but in all honesty, he had never seen anything more beautiful. He slipped the ring on his finger, cringing at the burning pain, and twisted it.

The air in front of him shimmered slightly and a figure appeared. Solomon looked into the familiar glowing white eyes, and smiled.

"Uraziel," he said, voice quivering with emotion. "I'm back."

The figure smiled back, reaching to wipe tears from Solomon's face. "My king." it whispered, "I never doubted it." 

**oOo**

" _The chamber is completely and utterly pitch black_." Khaba read, a truly horrifying grin slipping onto his face. " _You cannot see, nor hear anything - even with darkvision. However, all of you can smell the overwhelming stench of death and decay surrounding you. You cannot tell how big the room is or what exactly is in there, but by the sounds of the door shutting behind you, you can tell that the way back is now blocked_."

Nathaniel swallowed, frantically reaching for his character sheet. "R-right." He stuttered. "I cast _Light_ in an effort to d-dispel the darkness."

"Very well." The Dungeon Master rested his chin on his palm. "The darkness is magical, so your magical light dispels it."

"And what do we see?" Asmira prompted, fiddling with a d12. "Get on with it."

Khaba's grin widened. "As you wish." He purred. _"The light from Celadir's staff flashes, chasing away the darkness…"_ he nodded at Ammet, who, almost ceremoniously, opened _The Monster Manual_ at the appropriate page and began to read.

 _"…_ _and illuminating the giant, alien skull that descends down from the ceiling. One by one, little points of light spark into existence, surrounding the abomination. You feel paralyzing fear grip your hearts as all of you recognize the monster."_

Kitty gasped, pale and almost shaking from aforementioned paralyzing fear. "Death Tyrant." She uttered.

Grin still in place, Khaba reached for a d20.

 **"** **Roll for initiative."**


	13. PSA

**JUST SO YOU GUYS KNOW**

 **I'M WRITING AGAIN!**

 **And while this fic won't be updated again, I'm keeping it** her **for posterity (and to keep all your lovely reviews 3) and moving everything to "Miscounted", which is:**

 **On : s/12980911/1/Miscounted**

 **AO3: /works/15047720**

 **Thank you so much for your patience! I promise that I won't disappoint!**

 **I'll also be uploading some of my other Bartimaeus fics here from AO3 in case someone was interested, so keep your eyes open for that.**

 **I love you guys so much.**

 **-Positive**


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